Chapter 10 - Ameera
10
AMEERA
I gape at the empty bedroom for several seconds, as if Anson will appear out of the woodwork if I wait long enough. Then the panic sets in. I surge into the room and head straight for the bathroom, only to find it empty, too. I rush to the walk-in closet and he isn’t in there either. It’s a wasted effort since, as his sire, I already know he’s not here. I just don’t want to believe it.
“Bollocks,” I blurt out as I scan the room, looking for some clue to explain how he escaped.
I spot his phone lying on the floor not too far from the door and my frown deepens as I stride over and snatch it up. So much for tracking him with that. I whirl and hurry from the room, moving inhumanly fast up the stairs and into the study.
Samuel sees me and goes on alert. “Sire?”
“He’s gone,” I say, too panicked to even worry that Logan Rourke and his enforcer know what’s happening.
“What?” he asks as he hurries to my side.
“Anson isn’t in our room,” I explain.
His brows furrow. “But… but how?”
“The how doesn’t matter,” I say, my voice sharp. “We need to find him immediately. I need you to mobilize the guards and search the property and the surrounding area now.”
“Yes, Sire,” Samuel says, then rushes from the room.
Then I turn toward my guests. “I’m afraid this meeting will have to be concluded some other time, Mr. Rourke,” I say, my voice tremulous as I struggle to keep my panic in check. “I’ve got other pressing issues to take care of tonight.”
Logan tilts his head and studies me for a moment before he speaks. “I know his scent. I can track him for you.”
I snort out a bitter laugh. “No offense, but the last thing I need is to owe the Unity Pack Alpha a favor.”
“And you’d prefer to give the Mage Council more ammunition to start an all out war with your brood?”
“There won’t be a war,” I reply.
“If your new progeny goes rogue and kills an innocent, there will be,” Logan says, his voice calm and even. “Are you willing to take that risk by refusing my help?”
“What do you get out of helping me?” I ask, my voice rising in anger now.
“I won’t be doing it to help you. I’d be doing it for Anson.”
“Why would you want to help him?” I continue with narrowed eyes, confused by his offer. “He’s a vampire like me now and your kind despises us.”
Logan’s passive expression hardens. “I’m not the kind of man who judges someone for what they are. I judge their character by their actions. And I know firsthand that Anson Hale is an honorable man. I can’t imagine being turned changed that, especially when all accounts lead me to believe that his sire is just as honorable.”
I blink at him in surprise, unable to find words between his apparent compliment and my panic over Anson’s disappearance.
Logan rises to his feet to tower over me, his expression serene again. “There’s no time to waste here. Let’s find your man before he gets himself into trouble.” Then he motions toward the door with a chivalrous sweep of his hand. “After you.”
I manage a nod and lead the way out of my study, with Logan and Grayson following on my heels. I approach the top of the stairwell into the basement and stop, hesitant to take them anywhere near my daytime resting place, even if he seems trustworthy.
Logan takes in a deep breath and glances around before staring off toward the kitchen. “He passed through here recently and went that way.”
He heads in that direction, to my relief, and I follow him, with Grayson trailing close behind. We enter the kitchen and Logan ignores a stunned Dre, who’s standing by the sink with his phone to his ear, and moves straight toward the back door.
“He went out through this door,” Logan announces.
“I gotta go,” Dre says into this phone before ending his call, then addresses Logan. “Who went through the door?” he asks, but his worried frown tells me he already knows the answer.
“Anson escaped,” I tell him as I step closer to him. “Did you see anything?”
“No,” Dre says. “I… I didn’t see a damn thing.”
“Hale could’ve glamoured him,” Grayson says with a shrug.
Dre blanches then meets my eyes with an apologetic expression. I brush against his mind and shake my head.
“You weren’t,” I say. “He most likely slipped past you while you were distracted.”
He grimaces. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, detective,” I say as I place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “This is on me. I didn’t ensure the door was secure before we left the room. He must have slipped out before it could latch.”
Meanwhile, Logan has opened the back door and is scowling out at the pouring rain beyond the porch’s awning. He glances at me as he closes the door. “I’m sorry, but I can’t track his scent through this heavy rain.”
“Bollocks,” I announce to the room, my panic morphing into actual fear now. If we can’t find him, he could hurt or kill someone, or worse, he could get caught outside when the sun rises and meet his true death this time.
“Is there any place he’d be likely to go?” Grayson asks. “Friends or family he might seek out?”
“His sister,” I say.
“Yeah,” Dre adds. “He’d definitely want to see Amber.”
Logan arches a brow. “Isn’t she the one that got attacked by those rogue vamps a few years ago?”
I nod.
“The same attack that drove Allen Hale into attempting to start an all out war between the mages and the vampires?” Grayson asks.
I nod again.
Grayson snorts out a laugh. “And now another rogue vamp is headed straight for her door? This should end well.”
I grit my teeth and stifle my rising panic and my anger at the werewolf’s levity during this grave situation. Neither emotion is helpful right now. “I don’t have time for this,” I say as I shoot a withering and dismissive glare at both werewolves, then turn to Dre. “Let’s go. He’s most likely on foot, so we should be able to beat him there.”
I lead Dre toward the front door, where my Porsche 911 is parked just outside, not even caring that the two werewolves are still in my house. They can stay or piss off for all I care. All that matters is finding Anson.
I reach the door and address the two guards in the entryway. “See our guests off the property, please.”
“We’re coming with you,” Logan announces in a deep, growling voice.
I whirl to face the two werewolves who I’m well aware have followed us through the house. “And why would I allow that?”
“Because I don’t want my pack to get sucked into a war between the mages and vampires, and Allen Hale doesn’t need any more ammunition to feed his vendetta against your kind.”
I look Logan Rourke up, then down, trying to decide my next course of action. Do I trust this werewolf I’ve only just met? I could use the help to track Anson down, but what price will he require as repayment later? I don’t want that hanging over my head. I’ll just have to find him himself. I’m ready to tell him to leave again when my attention returns to his face. For the first time, he meets my eyes with a purposeful intent that can’t be misconstrued as a mistake. I’m stunned by the powerful werewolf’s display of trust and the risk he’s taken to prove it. Though I can’t help wondering if my glamour would do me much good against the formidable Alpha, if I dared to use it on him. I’m still teetering on the fence when he sighs and speaks again.
“Plus, it’s the right thing to do.”
That, in addition to his sincere expression, decides it. “Very well,” I say. “Let’s go.”
Then I turn and hurry outside to my car through the rain, noting the massive muscle car parked behind my Porsche that dwarfs the little sports car. It’s a beautiful and immaculately maintained mid-sixties Pontiac GTO in a dark blue that’s so deep it would appear black to a human’s poor night vision. Grayson climbs into the driver’s seat and Logan into the passenger side as Dre and I get into my car. I speed down my driveway and out onto the street after my guards open the gate, then take off toward Anson’s home at a fast clip, hoping the werewolves can keep up. I regret leaving Samuel behind with no explanation, but it couldn’t be helped when every second counts like this.
Dre and I travel in tense silence, except for the man’s occasional gasp or mumbled curse at my aggressive driving style. The werewolves manage to keep up, despite struggling to replicate the tight turns I take in my more maneuverable vehicle. The rain has tapered off by the time I stop next to the curb across the street from Anson’s home, and I kill the engine just as the GTO pulls alongside us and the passenger window lowers.
“We’ll park in the alley behind the house in case Hale approaches from that direction,” Logan says. “We’ll let you know if we see anything.”
I frown. “How? You don’t even have my phone number.”
“Don’t I?” he says with a slight smirk as he lifts his phone up and hits a few buttons on it.
Within seconds, my phone rings in my suit jacket pocket, and I pull it out to see an unknown number on the screen before the call ends. Then I scowl at Logan. “How the bloody hell did you get my number?”
He shrugs. “I don’t ask and Gray doesn’t tell.”
I turn my glare on the other werewolf.
Grayson’s answering grin is smug and unapologetic. “What can I say? I’m a resourceful motherfucker.” Then he holds up a hand held police scanner. “I even brought this, in case your man gets himself into trouble with the law.”
“You’ve got my number now,” Logan says. “Call me if you spot him.” Then he motions to Grayson, who drives away before I can come up with anything else to say.
“Son of a bitch,” Dre mutters as I keep my eyes trained on the front of the old Victorian home. “I should’ve thought to bring a police scanner myself.”
“It’s alright,” I say. “We have one now. That’s all that matters.”
“What if Anson gets into the house and hurts Amber before we can stop him?” Dre asks. “None of us can get past the ward to do anything.”
“Don’t worry about that,” I say. “Once Anson died and became a vampire, he lost his ability to enter the house without an invitation from Amber.”
“So all that invitation crap in the movies is real?”
“Very,” I reply.
“Huh,” he says, then asks, “What if she invites him in?”
“Let’s just hope that doesn’t happen.”
Then I lapse into silence because I don’t have the heart to tell Dre that Anson could easily glamour her into granting that invitation if he wanted to. I don’t think he would, but he’s been so detached he might not be in touch with his humanity enough to ignore the impulse. If that happens and he hurts his sister, he’ll never forgive himself, and neither will his father.
What seems like an interminable amount of time passes after that, and I’m wondering if we were wrong to come here first when my phone rings again. I snatch it up and my heart sings with hope when I see Logan’s number on the screen as I answer the call.
“Is he here?” I ask as a greeting, my voice high and tight with desperation.
“I’m afraid not,” Logan says, dashing my hopes. “But we did just hear some chatter on the police scanner about an attempted mugging and some offhand comment about a witness claiming the male assailant was trying to bite the victim’s neck before he was interrupted.”
My heart squeezes with fear. “Where?”
“Some alley a few miles south of Unity College,” he replies and rattles off the street name.
I have the car started, and in gear, before he even finishes speaking. “I’m already on my way,” I say as I hit the gas pedal, jerking poor Dre into his seatback with the sudden motion.
“We’ll meet you there,” Logan says just before I end the call.
I toss the phone to Dre, then put both hands on the wheel so I can make a tight turn at the next intersection and head southwest. The rain starts up again halfway there and I slow the car for the conditions, mindful of the fragile human in my passenger seat. I would be fine in the event of a crash, but Dre might not be.
We reach our destination and my tires skid across the wet pavement as I stop along the street near the alley. Dre and I lunge out of the car just as Logan and Grayson pull up behind us. I stop at the head of the alley, heedless of the heavy rain that’s soaking my silk suit, then glance around and see no one.
“Anson!” I call out his name, but get no answer as the two werewolves join us.
Logan stops next to me, the rain plastering his mane of long hair to his head, his black T-shirt clinging to his muscular upper body. He scans the alley, tilting his head as he takes in a deep breath through his nose, then moves forward a few yards and does it again. He nods, then strides into the alley toward a shadowed area off to the left that’s somewhat sheltered from the incessant rain.
“He was here,” Logan announces as he glances back at me. “And pretty recently too, since the rain hasn’t washed away his scent yet.” He takes in another breath and looks east toward the other end of the alley, motioning in that direction. “He went that way, but I won’t be able to track it for long in this heavy shit,” he adds as he waves a hand at the sky.
Anson may have been sidetracked by his bloodlust, and thank God, someone interrupted him before he could hurt someone, but I know where he’s going. I was right all along, and I could kick myself for wasting time coming to this alley.
“He’s going home,” I say, then spin to stalk back to my car with Dre, who runs to keep up.
“Sunrise isn’t too far off,” Logan calls out behind me. “We can take care of this if you need to go to ground.”
I whirl and glare at him. “I won’t abandon him when he needs me.”
Logan frowns. “I’d hate for both of you to get fried if we run out of time.”
“Then so be it,” I say as I lift my chin, my voice steady. “If he greets the sun one last time, then I’ll greet it with him.” And I mean every word too.
Logan looks downright puzzled by my fervent declaration, but he nods before hurrying to the GTO with Grayson as I climb into my Porsche. The rain lets up as I pull away from the curb and it makes the drive to Anson’s house easier this time, though it feels like an eternity to me as I keep my eye on the brightening eastern horizon ahead of us. The telltale dread of the approaching sunrise sits heavy in my chest, urging me to find the nearest sunless place to hide, but I ignore it and press on.
This time I park in the alley behind Anson’s home with the werewolves right behind me. We get out of our cars and I approach the gate into the yard and notice that it’s wide open.
“That wasn’t open earlier,” Grayson says.
Logan approaches the gate and scents the breeze, then stills and stares at the house with a disconcerted expression that looks out of place on the intimidating man. He enters the yard without a word, then moves in silence toward the house and up onto the deck. He stills again for a long moment before whirling and rushing back to where the rest of us are waiting in the alley. The man still looks flustered, but now it’s edged with what appears to be fear.
“You okay?” Grayson asks, as he stares at Logan with narrowed eyes.
“I’m good,” Logan replies as he shakes off his weird reaction.
“Is Amber okay?” I ask, terrified that Anson harmed his sister.
Logan focuses on me. “Anson’s trail ends just shy of the door,” he says. “I can smell fear, but there’s no blood.” He frowns as he glances back at the house. “I can hear a woman crying inside, too.”
I let out a relieved sigh that he didn’t hurt her, at least not physically, as Logan continues.
“We just missed him,” the Alpha says, then points to the east. “He went that way.” He glances at Grayson. “Stay here in case he comes back.”
“I’ll stay here too,” Dre says. “I’ll just slow you guys down.”
Logan strides off and I hurry after him, ignoring the slight tingling on my face and hands from the ever lightening sky. He tracks Anson’s scent to the end of the addition and into a wooded area, then follows it along a path that leads eastward; the canopy of trees relieving the stinging along my exposed skin. The dread of the rising sun that’s been oppressing me since leaving the alley is now joined by another fear when I realize exactly where Anson is headed.
Logan must be thinking the same thing I am because he pulls out his phone and calls Grayson as he breaks into a run, telling him to bring the car around to the road that runs just on the other side of the woods and stretches along the edge of the Warton River. It’s a popular location for watching the sun rise over the river, its bank lined with decorative benches facing dead east.
We reach the edge of the trees in mere moments, and I look across the road at an occupied bench and spot a familiar head of dark curls through the slats of the backrest. Bloody hell, Anson is lying on the bench waiting to greet the sun one final time, and the thought sends me spiraling into panicked terror just like when he was shot and bleeding out in my arms. I dash out into the open and across the street with Logan at my heels. My skin burns like white-hot fire this time, and the sky to the east is the lightest I’ve ever experienced as a vampire. I reach the bench to find Anson curled in the fetal position and sobbing, his skin already red and starting to smoke.
“Anson!” I cry and throw myself over him, as if I can somehow protect him from what’s coming.
There’s nowhere close by for either of us to hide from the brutal and unrelenting light of the sun or enough time for us to flee somewhere safe. My skin blisters, and I screw my eyes shut and scream in agony right along with Anson. I grip him tight, wishing we had more time, that we could have faced the unending road of immortality that stretched out before us together. I guess that was a pipe dream. But if I’m going to greet the sun one last time, then I can’t think of anything better than doing it with the man I love in my arms.
I barely register the roar of an approaching engine and the frantic shouting of Logan, Grayson, and Dre as I breathe in the unmistakable scent of charred flesh. I hear the words “blankets” and “trunk” just before something gets thrown over me, shrouding my body in sweet relief. But the reprieve is short-lived as someone gathers me up into their arms and presses some sort of rough fabric against my abused skin. I cry out and Anson does the same as I’m laid down on some sort of coarse and scratchy carpet. A loud thump jostles my entire body, then I’m cloaked in blessed darkness just before my consciousness fades away.